


Fangs

by curiumKingyo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Come Sharing, Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shapeshifter Gavin, Snowballing, Sweet Ending, alternative universe, witch Nines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 06:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15599943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: Nines' night is interrupted when a wounded and furious Gavin shows up on his backyard.





	Fangs

Nines is familiar to this sound now. Heavy, aggressive, growling and huffing followed by the noise of heavy paws and sharp claws destroying the bark of the large willow tree on the back of the house.  _ It is always the willow _ , Nines thinks as he rolls his eyes. The sound comes closer, the backyard door shaking under the assault. Nines huffs in annoyance, Gavin knows better than to cause real damage to the property, though. He knows the door will be intact anyway.

It has been a while since the last time it happened, but not so much that Nines had forgotten how this goes. He doesn’t remember when it started, though. In what moment it was decided that he was the one Gavin should look for when in his fits of rage, in what moment he decided he wanted to be the one there for Gavin. He decides not to think too much about it.

The noise stops for a moment but it is a pregnant pause, heavy in the night air. Nines stands up from his desk to look through the window. He can’t see Gavin but he sees the traces of his presence: one of Connor’s potted plants is upturned and the dirt is spread all over, there are paw prints on the cement path across the yard, red drippings decorate the grass.

He keeps his eyes on the yard as he picks his phone and opens the message app.

“Don’t come home tonight,” he types with one hand. As usual, Connor’s reply is almost immediate.

“Gavin?”

“Yes.”

Half a minute of silence.

“I’m staying at Hank’s.”

“Good. Send my regards to the Lieutenant.”

“Will do. Good night, 9s.”

Nines places his phone back on the desk. It has been raining a lot lately, today had been a dry day but he sees how muddy the yard still is. He looks down at his usual pristine white jacket and decided it will do no good to receive Gavin like this. He hangs the jacket on the back of his office chair and opens the wardrobe, looking for something more appropriate.

His frown disappears completely when he finds an old, dark grey sweatshirt. He slips it on and can’t help but adore the way it falls too short on him, the hem barely reaching his belly button. It is Gavin’s sweatshirt. He hopes the familiar scent will help him bring the detective back this time.

Before leaving the room Nines picks a small box he had prepared specifically for this kind of situation.

He goes downstairs hyper-aware of the sounds. Gavin has fallen oddly quiet but Nines still clearly feels his presence, like a vibration on the very fabric of reality. He takes a cursory glance across the yard through the glass panel in the middle of the door. The yard is dark but Nines can see fine with whatever light is coming from the windows upstairs. He still can’t see Gavin.

Carefully, he opens the door and steps into the backyard, his feet landing silently on the grass. He feels the cold and wet earth under his toes. Gavin’s paws will be caked in mud.

Nines places the box on the small table by the door and takes a deep breath.

“Detective?”

A low, menacing growl replies back. Oh, there he is. Nines looks at the shadowy space between the rosemary bushes and the wall, it is drowned in darkness but it is not difficult for him to see the shivering shape of a big dark dog there. It is restless, spittle dripping from its maw, spine arched in an aggressive curve. Light reflects off of mad yellow eyes.

“Come here, detective,” Nines asks, voice even.

The only reply is a spine-chilling snarl. Raw, almost chaotic energy seems to emanate from the dog, all the hair on its back is standing on end, the legs wide and flexed, ready to leap and attack. Nines is not fazed, though.

Gavin usually comes right as Nines steps into the yard, the fact that he is so resistant is a little worrisome. Something big must have happened to make him go so deep into his beastly shape. Normally Nines just needs to pat him a little, say some soothing words and watch the hound melt away from the exhausted detective. It looks like tonight he will have to do more.

Nines takes the box and slips it into the pocket of his sweatshirt before taking a step into the yard. A warning growl sounds, big paws stomp the ground and black claws dig into the soft earth. Gavin’s tail is puffed, the hairs bristled as it curls up trying to make him look bigger. Foam bubbles on the corners of his black lips, his yellowish fangs glistening in the light.

The waning moon looks like a crooked smile on the night sky.

Nines approaches carefully, step by step with his arms open, hands stretched open, palms up. Looking harmless is impossible to him, his very nature and stature make him a bit unsettling but he is doing his best to look non-threatening. He isn’t sure he is making a good enough job. Gavin’s face twists in rage as he comes closer, his black lips open in a ferocious snarl, eyes fixed on Nines’.

“I’m here to help, Gavin,” he says, using the detective’s name for the first time. This seems to have an effect. Gavin’s posture continues belligerent but he takes a small step forward. “You came here because you know I will help, right, Gavin?”

The mad light on Gavin’s eyes seem to lift up for a second, only to return when Nines takes a step forward. Gavin growls, deep and violent. Nines stops on his tracks. This seems to be the closer Gavin will allow him now. He needs to lure the hound closer.

Nines wills his magic to work. A warm breeze blows across the yard, carrying the scent of Gavin’s sweatshirt over to the corner where the shapeshifter is still hiding. The hound stops snarling, its pointed ears raising up in curiosity.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Nines continues speaking in his soft, even voice. “This is your scent, Gavin. You recognize it.”

The hair on Gavin’s back is not raised like needles anymore, the curve of his spine slowly dropping into an alert but approachable posture. Nines extends his hand, offering some of his own scent for the dog to sniff at.

“You know me, Gavin,” he says. “You know my scent too.”

Finally, Gavin steps away from his darkened corner. As he steps into the circle of light coming from the house Nines sees the gash across his muzzle. That explains the red splashes near the potted plants. The corner of Gavin’s mouth is full of pink tinted foam, a mix of blood and saliva, dripping down his jaw and soaking the thick hairs around his throat.

Nines is worried now. Gavin is a powerful hound, strong and fast and few creatures would be able to hurt him like this. He just hopes that whatever it is, is gone now. He remains as immovable as possible, his hand outstretched, his breath suspended.

When Gavin finally brushes his bloodied muzzle on his hand, Nines lets go of a breath he had been holding for too long. He feels how scared and confused Gavin is, his breathing shallow and sharp, his heart thundering away in his slim ribcage. Nines kneels on the ground and slowly moves his hand around until he is cupping Gavin’s long snout.

“There you are,” Nines says, so soft and low that Gavin only hears it because of his sharp animal senses. The hound shivers in his hand.

With his free hand, Nines reaches into his pocket and he deftly opens the box and grabs the object inside it. Gavin’s yellow eyes are following his every move.

“It is okay, Gavin,” Nines reassures him. “I’ve got you.”

Nines slowly pulls the leather collar from his pocket. Gavin’s pupils shrink when he sees it but his body sags a little against Nines. Gavin’s entire being is shivering, in anger or fear or hurt, is impossible to tell. Nines feels his frantic heartbeat, the small distressed noises he is still making. This is no good.

“I will wrap the collar around your neck now, okay?”

Gavin whines and presses his face against Nines’ neck. He takes small, shallow breaths for a long while. Nines doesn’t move until he feels Gavin’s tongue shyly lick at his jaw.

Carefully, with telegraphed movements, he brings the collar up and around Gavin’s neck. The hair there is thick, dark brown and usually very soft. Now it feels coarse under Nines’ fingers. The buckle closes silently and Nines runs his fingers between the collar and Gavin’s neck to make sure it is not too tight. It isn’t, Nines wouldn’t make a mistake as silly as this.

“Good boy,” Nines murmurs, his fingers carefully carding through Gavin’s thick fur. “What happened to you, hun? There is blood all over your face and it appears to be all yours.”

Gavin isn’t vocal in this form so he just whines and growls. Nines shakes his head a little but continues to pet him. Gavin comes closer, his heartbeat finally slowing down. The mix of his own scent on the old sweatshirt and Nines’ smell slow but surely lulls him into a sense of safety. He makes soft sounds as he starts to shift back at last.

The neck under Nines’ careful fingers grows longer and more slender, the fur receding and giving way to soft skin. The sharp fangs and black mouth turn into regular human teeth and cracked lips caked with blood and dried spit. Gavin’s hands shake when they cling to Nines’ sweatshirt.

Nines holds Gavin close, soothing him with gentle petting and softly whispered words of encouragement.

“Nines,” Gavin is finally able to speak again. His voice is hoarse and fragile.

“Shhhh,” Nines soothes him. “It is okay, you’re back.”

“I was scared,” Gavin says. “It was all dark and cold, I couldn’t find my way back.”

Nines takes Gavin’s hand into his. It is covered in mud and grass stains, there are dirt and blood under his nails. It doesn’t matter - it is a perfect human hand and it is warm and Nines presses a kiss to its back. Gavin shivers and whines.

“I am glad you found your way.”

“Nines…” Gavin’s voice still has a whiny quality to it. “Make me human again.”

Nines slips one arm under Gavin’s legs and the other around his waist, Gavin responds by wrapping his own arms around Nines’ shoulders and burying his face on the taller man’s neck. Nines feels the cold touch of the collar buckle on his skin as Gavin leans close to him. It is not difficult for Nines to bring Gavin upstairs with him, his feet leaving dirty prints on the steps and corridors.

The lights are still on and Gavin hides from them, his eyes still not used to the luminosity. Nines goes directly to the bathroom and he carefully places Gavin on the closed toilet seat while he adjusts the temperature of the water.

“The collar?” Nines asks, touching the collar lightly. Gavin shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. Nines lets it sit, loose and warm around Gavin’s neck.

Once he is satisfied with how hot the shower is running he gets rid of his clothes and steps into the shower stall. He offers his hand up and Gavin takes it into his muddied hands. Nines gently pulls Gavin into the shower, the detective’s steps still a little unsure now that he only has two legs.

Nines steers Gavin until the detective is directly under the hot spray. Blood and dirt wash down his body and he hisses in pain as the cut across his face starts to bleed once again. Gently, Nines cups Gavin’s face and looks at the wound.

It is deep but the edges are sharp and clean. He whispers a healing spell and the bleeding stops immediately, the shiny cut closes under seconds leaving a bright scar on its wake. Gavin takes a shuddering, relieved breath.

Nines runs his fingers over Gavin’s face. The heat of the water is making it glow pink and soft. Nines can’t help the little smile on his own face.

Gavin just stands there under the spray, gently swaying at the same spot, tired and dazed, his mind slowly getting used to his human body again. Nines pours some shampoo on his hair and washes it thoroughly, picking pieces of grass and clots of dirty from the short strands. He tips Gavin’s head back and rinses the soapy water, careful not to let any shampoo get into his eyes.

Gain does his best to cooperate while Nines washes him. First his hair, then his neck, under and around the collar there, then shoulders, down his arms and back. Nines then drops to his knees and scrubs Gavin’s feet and legs clean. There is dirt trapped under his nails, on both hands and feet, and Nines makes a mental note to clean it later.

“Nines…” Gavin calls him, breathy and urgent.

“What do you need, Gavin?”

Gavin looks down at him, green eyes unfocused and soft. Nines knows this look but he wants a confirmation.

“Do you want a kiss?” Nines offers, standing up again. Gavin nods, sluggishly.

Nines steps closer and takes Gavin’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts Gavin’s face up and kisses him softly. Gavin makes a soft, needy sound, and his hands come to rest on Nines’ chest.

They kiss for a long while, exploring and teasing. Nines’ touch seems to bring Gavin more and more back into his own body.

“Your mouth tastes of blood,” Nines comments when they pull apart.

“I want it to taste of you,” Gavin says, breathless.

“Go to the bed,” Nines orders and Gavin comply as fast as he can.

They tumble into the bed in a mess of limbs, wet and hot and shaking with anticipation. Nines tries to push Gavin down onto the mattress but the detective manages to roll them around and end up on the top.

“Let me stay on all fours,” he requests, tongue lapping at the water dripping down Nines’ neck.

Nines chuckles.

“Take the man out of the dog but never the dog out of the man,” he teases and runs his hands down Gavin’s body. His fingers brush over old scars and the soft hairs on his navel. Gavin growls.

“Does it make you my bitch?”

Instead of answering Nines just wraps his long hand around Gavin’s half hard cock. The detective moans, needy and urgent, hips stuttering into the contact. Nines smirks but says nothing as Gavin ruts against his hand and nuzzles his neck. After a moment Gavin takes Nines’ own cock on his fist and works him into a full erection with just a few practiced movements.

Once they are both hard and leaking Gavin turns around straddling Nines’ chest and leaning down until his cock gets close to Nines’ waiting mouth. The taller man barely needs to lift his head in order to lick at the precome welling up on the head of Gavin’s erection. Gavin whines in response.

“Fuck, Nines,” he murmurs, softly, before leaning down and kissing the head Nines’ erection. The skin there is silky and so hot it feels like a brand on Gavin’s lips. He opens his mouth and takes it in, his teeth barely grazing the soft skin.

Nines sucks in a broken breath as he feels Gavin’s mouth closing around the tip of his erection. Gavin is always messy when sucking him, in fact, he is messy in every aspect and act of their sexual encounters and Nines would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it.

Now, however, messy is not the best word to describe Gavin. He is insatiable, the beast somehow still howling inside him, his mouth producing so much spit it drips down Nines’ cock and pools on the crease between his thighs and crotch. Gavin licks and sucks and moans pitifully, his body strung tight like a guitar string. Nines feels his legs and arms shaking around him.

Pleasure is building fast.

Nines sucks on Gavin’s erection, all control, and precision, his hands rubbing circles on Gavin’s tense thighs. Gavin slobbers and moans, the smell of Nines’ arousal spurring him on and on. Drool runs down Gavin’s chin and neck and darkens the leather of his collar.

They grow frantic, hips stuttering, lips tingling and shining with spit and precome. Gavin is hyper-conscious of every point of contact between them, Nines’ presence an anchor on his human skin. Nines sucks meticulously, cheeks hollowing, lips pursing, he releases the pressure just enough to keep Gavin on the edge. At some point Gavin actually stops sucking, he just breathes harshly and holds his mouth wet and slack around Nines’ cock and lets the minute shifting of his hips to do the work. It works fairly well.

Nines’ legs tighten around Gavin’s head and holds him in place as the witch comes. Gavin swallows as much as he can but the angle is not optimal, much of the thick liquid splashes around his mouth and drips back down, making a veritable mess of Nines’ crotch.

Gavin’s thrusts his hips into the welcoming heat of Nines’ mouth a couple times more and then he comes crashing down. His body shakes as he comes, nails digging into the linen bed sheets, a feral howling escaping his lips. He pulses and fills Nines’ mouth and throat, his noises needy and fragile.

The detective flops down onto the bed, senses buzzing and skin aflame. He is not surprised when Nines’ shifts around by his side until they are face to face. Nines grabs the collar to tilt Gavin’s face up and leans over him. Gavin knows what to do: he opens his mouth wide and lays his tongue out.

Nines’ tongue touches his and come drips down onto his willing mouth. It might be psychological but it is uncanny how different they both feel and taste on Gavin’s tongue. His own come is thick and bitter, it leaves an odd aftertaste that he only accepts because it is accompanied by the soft touch of Nines’ tongue. Nines’ come, on the other hand, feels silky on his mouth, coating it evenly and burning his taste buds in the best possible way.

When the two mix, Gavin’s head spin.

Nines kisses him, come and spit mixing and dripping down their chins until they need to breathe. Gavin cleans his mouth on the back of his hand and Nines does the same, going so far as to actually use Gavin’s hand to do so. Gavin rolls his eyes.

They remain in silence for a while.

“Would you like to talk about what happened?” Nines breaks the silence after a while.

Gavin considers what to say as he shifts about to find the perfect position against Nines. One he is perfectly comfortable he speaks.

“I was ambushed. Some guys I arrested last month were set free and decided to take revenge.”

Nines hisses. “They cut you,” he says in a deceptively calm voice.

“Yes. I think this is was triggered the shift,” Gavin says, pensively. “The adrenaline, the pain. The smell and taste of blood.”

“Oh, that’s why it was so hard to bring you back,” Nines comments and Gavin nods.

“I guess so, yes.”

“And what happened to them?”

Gavin remains quiet for a moment, his finger idly running over the soft collar.

“I think one of them genuinely had a heart attack,” he says and even Nines can’t tell if he is joking or not. “I pushed the other down after shifting, he hit his head on a dumpster. I think he survived but I didn’t stay long enough to check.”

“Do you want me to have Connor and Lieutenant Anderson looking it for you?”

“No need,” Gavin shrugs. “By now he is probably awake.”

Nines doesn’t say anything in return. He kisses the top of Gavin’s head and looks down at him. His skin, peppered with scars and soft dark hair; is still flushed and wet from the hot shower. His hair is a wild mess but there is little to do about it now. Nines’ eyes fall on the collar, snug but comfortable around his neck.

“We should remove the collar now,” Nines says.

Gavin presses it against his throat. “May I keep it a little longer?”

“The leather might warp,” Nines explains and Gavin groans a little.

“I like it,” he admits.

And Nines has to admit it: he likes it too. He likes how the color contrasts with Gavin’s skin, he likes how it shapes Gavin’s neck and how it bobs slightly as the man swallows. But, most of all, he likes the fact that it was he who put it there. It was his hand and his will that brought Gavin back and it was his hand and his will who put the collar around his neck.

Nines sighs, wraps his arms tighter around Gavin’s smaller frame.

“I like it too,” he says in a very, very low and soft voice.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me having ideas for Reed900 AUs in the middle of the night.  
> It was supposed to be wild and hot, then it turned a little sad and sweet, then kinda hot and then soft again? I swear I don't control any aspect of my own writings OTL
> 
> Come hang with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/curiumkingyo) or [Tumblr](http://burn-gormans-eyelashes.tumblr.com) and if you are feeling generous, take a look at my [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/O5O8K6GJ#) too <3


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